


Loss is an unending battle between trying to remember and trying to forget.

by systemoverride



Category: Batman (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 06:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12248736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/systemoverride/pseuds/systemoverride
Summary: Tim/Jason. This takes place when Tim 'dies' during Detective Comics #939 & 940.





	Loss is an unending battle between trying to remember and trying to forget.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve replaced the role of Steph in the story with Dick because dynamics; sorry to Steph fans. I know Jason refused to attend Tim’s funeral, so I made him go through other means. Enjoy :)

* * *

 

 

Red Hood squinted as he vaulted across the remains of the roof in an abandoned factory site. A short ring on his comms device had just echoed through his earpiece. He knew this sound like no other. Babybird.

“Hey, Timmy,” he breathed as a whir of bullets left scorch marks in the spot he was before, “What’s up?”

There was a pause. It was a slightly concerning pause.

“Hello Jay. It seems like you are a bit preoccupied over there,” came the response.

Jason grinned, “just another day on the -whoa-,” he launched himself towards the emergency escape ladder on the neighbouring building, “run, babybird.”

A chuckle escaped through the comm. Tim’s beautiful laugh. It had been a month and a half since he had left Gotham with the Outlaws chasing the leader of his next target cartel. Damn, if he could, he would’ve thrown himself straight through the earpiece and into his lover’s arms. ' _A recharge_ ,' Jason would tell him innocently, and he knew his babybird would laugh and give him a firm hug, like he always did.

“Earth to Jason?” Roy. Interrupting. Again. Hood groaned internally as he climbed the fire escape to the roof of the building. “Mind giving those gas tanks a shove?”

Jason rolled the gas tanks on the roof towards his pursuers and jumped clear. A quick whoosh of an arrow went the width of a hair past his mask and into the moving tanks, lighting up the fire escape with a beautiful red blaze. Or what was left of the fire escape.

“That arrow was way too close.”

“You mean, wow! Thank you, you saved me,” Roy smirked through the comm from the fence he was perched on, half a kilometer away.

“Hey Jay,” Tim spoke. He had waited for the action to die down a little, “I gotta go.”

“I’ll be back in two days; mission success, babybird. I’m expecting a congratulatory beer.”

Again, a pause. Then, a soft ‘mhm’ left Tim’s lips. Jason heard the sound of fingers tapping across a keyboard, followed by a very firm press of what he assumed was the ENTER key.

Faint steady beeps began in the background. Quite sure that Tim’s work on the computer was done, Jason spoke, “Love ya, babe.”

“I love you, Jason. I always will.” There was a slight muffled sound in his earpiece. Hood’s eyebrows lifted in surprise; his babybird had given him a kiss. Over the phone. “Babe, I am going to kiss the hell out of you when I get back.” He heard Tim smile again, and with that, the comm line went silent.

Searching for the feeling of the warm metal ring underneath his glove, he gave out a loud whoop and called up Roy and Kori, “Let’s go! I’ve got a babybird waiting for me!” and the three of them disappeared into the flames.

 

* * *

 

The secondary drone fleet was headed towards Gotham as Tim stared at the monitor in the Batcave. He had switched off his link to Jason and quickly dialed up Dick, “No speeches, not now. Just get the people out of there. I rerouted the drones.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t stop the drones?” Dick’s voice was clearly confused.

“I couldn’t.”

In the background, Tim could hear the panicked voices of people being evacuated. “Then what are you talking about?”

“I can’t shut them down. They’ll stop when their mission is completed,” closing his eyes, he put his hand to his chest, gently touching the circular metal hidden beneath his suit.

“The target. I changed the targets to target. Plural to singular,” he smiled, satisfied at his own work, “the drones only have one target left in the city -”

He opened his eyes and shut off his comm link to Dick. Tim gave one last glance at the timer on the Batcave monitor showing the estimated arrival time of the drones to the old Wayne Tower and revved up his motorcycle,

“- me.”

 

* * *

 

“You… call those - haa- drones?”

Tim lay amongst the wreckage of the first fleet on the top of the old Wayne Tower. Breathing ragged from his cracked ribs, he grimaced in pain as he propped himself up using his reinforced staff. ’ _My leg’s gone too_ ,’ he mumbled to himself, ’ _Jason will never let me hear the end of this_.’

He stopped. He couldn’t let his mind wander, but sometimes, when situations become dire, it was never wrong to hope. This was one of those times.

’ _After I destroy this last fleet, I’ll head home, put a six-pack in the fridge for Jason, and then take a long shower._ ’ Tim smiled. He could picture Jason picking the lock on his window and slipping into their bed as he slept. Jason would pull him into his bigger frame, engulfing him in a long overdue hug. 'J _ust a recharge, babybird_ ,’ he would say as he kissed his hair, and Tim would hum and bury his face in his chest, savouring the feeling of his arms and the steady pulse of his heartbeat.

“Tim!”

Sharply pulled out of his reverie by the sound of Bruce’s voice in his ear, he looked up to the pitch-black sky. The light of a star sliced cleanly through the thick night. One star began to multiply, covering the sky in a galaxy of silver, and Tim knew then that they were not stars. As the second fleet of silver drones drew closer, he spoke clearly and quickly, “Bruce.”

“Don’t say it!”

He could hear the stress - no, the panic - in Bruce’s voice as he scrambled across the rooftops, desperately trying to reach the Wayne Tower in time.

He closed his eyes in resolve, “Tell them I’m sorry. Tell them how much they all meant to me. Dick, Jason, Damian, Alfred… All of them.”

“No!”

“Thank you for everything, Bruce.”

“TIM!”

“Robin out.”

He dialed the phone in their house. He knew Jason wouldn’t be there to receive it. He could see Jason’s confused face when he came back to an empty house. A single message left on the phone, left unnoticed in the corner of the living room. The red light of an unheard voicemail, flashing in the dark. He knew Jason would head out to Wayne Manor looking for him. He knew all of this. He knew. But he just wasn’t ready.

“Jay…

Jay, listen. These last few months have been incredible. You helped me discover exactly what I wanted to do with my life. The kind of man I would be.

I wish I was going to be there for you and I know you might never forgive me.

I love you, Jay. I love you so much.

Goodbye, Jason.”

 

* * *

 

As he pulled up to their house on his motorcycle in the dead of night, Jason noticed the lights were out. “Sleeping already, huh, Timmy,” he breathed to himself. Scaling the wall to their bedroom window, he pulled out his lock pick and swiftly climbed inside after thoroughly scanning the area to ensure there was no unwanted attention.

Taking off his mask as he stepped onto the floor, something instantly felt off. The bedroom was clean but empty. Jason was leaning towards “almost untouched”. It was as if Tim had not returned in days. Out of caution, he pulled his helmet back on over his head and slipped his guns out of their holsters. Pacing himself, he silently made his way to the door and downstairs. The steady red flashing of the house phone illuminated the dark house.

“Tim?

Timmy?

Babe?”

Nothing. No beer on the counter either. Tim hadn’t come home since their last call. 

’ _Maybe he’s been out on a mission. Maybe with the Titans_.’ He dialed the Batcave, but there was no response. All the Bat comm lines were silent. He shoved the rising concern in his chest back down. Tim was strong, smart and capable. He should be fine. He would be fine. He was fine. He sprinted back up the stairs and flew out the window.

 

* * *

 

Expertly diving over the trap that opened just millimeters away from him, Jason made his way towards the entrance of the Batcave. ’ _Nice to know that Bats still wants me in here._ ’ The lights in the cave were off, not even the monitor was running. ’ _What the hell?_ ’

“Tim?” he scanned the cave using the night-vision installed in his mask, “Dick? Damian? Alfred? Bruce?” He listed their names, one by one, as if they were there. Hood climbed up the stairs to the bookshelf door leading to the manor. Before he made it through the door, something strange, no, something different about the cave caught his eye.

Not sparing a second, Jason scaled the stairs to the line of glass cases Bruce had always left displayed in the cave. ’ _No_ ,’ a sharp inhale, ’ _no_ ,’ his pace quickened, passing his own case, “no,” he spoke this one aloud, as he neared the end, “no, no, no-”

Shock rippled through his body, through his mind, and he instantly wished he hadn’t seen it. Unconsciously, he reached his hand out to touch the last case. The newest case. Before his index finger even touched the glass, he tore himself away from it, throwing himself over the railing towards the staircase leading out of the cave.

 

* * *

 

Books dropped violently to the floor as the bookcase was thrown open from the inside. The manor was empty. ’ _This isn’t happening, this shit ain’t happening- Goddammit! Shit!_ ’ Slamming open the back door he tripped across the stone stairs as he scrambled desperately towards the forest in the back of Wayne Manor. 

People. He saw them. Shapes of bodies. In the forest. Among the trees. He ran towards them in desperation, ’ _Please be there_.’

The closer he ran, the heavier his feet felt, ’ _Please_.’

Black. They were dressed in black. Why were they in black?

Seven. He counted seven. He rapidly listed their names in his head, ’ _Bruce, Dick, Dami, Alfred, Cass, Steph, Barbara-_ ’

He stood at the edge of the treeline, at the clearing in the middle of the forest. The clearing for remembering. The clearing for the stones.

Bruce sensed him easily and turned to meet his eyes. Jason ripped off his helmet, walking desperately towards the row of stones, pushing past Dick, pushing past Alfred, pushing past Bruce. A new stone. A gray stone. A beautiful stone. Wide-eyed, he stared at the engraved words, not understanding.

Everything was colourless, and then, everything was a blur.

 

* * *

 

’ _It’s Bruce’s face_.

 _What’s going on?_ ’

As the fog slowly began to clear in Jason’s mind, he realized he was shoving the older man against a tree. His hands, his knuckles, were white with tension and anger, gripping Bruce’s collar.

“Who? WHO DID THIS? TELL ME GODDAMMIT!”

’ _What am I saying?_

 _What is happening?_ ’

“Jaybird, please- Please stop.”

’ _That voice- Dick?_ ’

In the corner of his eye, he saw Dick pushing himself up off the ground nearby, as Damian ran towards them.

And then all he saw was trees, and then darkness.

 

* * *

 

Jason awoke in the living room of their house. He was sitting on the armchair, fully dressed. The smell of waffles lingered in the air.

“Morning, Jay. You’re welcome to some breakfast if you’d like. Well, it’s more like lunch now.”

A shadow crossed over top of him from behind. He looked up. It was Tim. Beautiful, amazing, sexy Tim. The corners of Tim’s sapphire eyes wrinkled slightly when he scanned Jason in concern, “Had a nightmare?”

“Come here,” Jason croaked. A slight frown crossed Tim’s face, “You drank way too much last night,” and he walked around the armchair, settling into Jason’s lap. Jason lifted his arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. “Thank god,” he breathed in the scent of his beloved bird, his other wing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, babybird, just a recharge.”

He planted a kiss into the slight part in Tim’s dark curls and Tim pushed himself out of the hug to bring his lips to meet Jason’s. “Those waffles smell good. Not Alfred’s paste waffles, right?”

Tim gave him a playful punch as he stood up and walked back into the kitchen, “Don’t you tell him that." 

As his beloved babybird left, he felt a small emptiness in his lap. Tim’s warmth was so precious, so fleeting. Jason pushed himself out of the armchair and followed Tim into the kitchen. He grabbed a plate out of the cabinet and set it on the kitchen counter as he seated himself on one of the bar stools. Tim placed a stack of waffles, fresh out of machine, onto Jason’s plate, and handed him some cutlery and a bottle of syrup. Sitting across the counter, Tim smiled as Jason ravenously devoured the waffles, "You eat as if you haven’t eaten in days.”

Jason flashed him a toothy grin, “I have yet to get a taste of you, babe.”

Tim’s laughter rang clearly through the air, “Don’t tempt me like that, Jay,” and he leaned over to give the taller man a kiss. “Mm, you taste sweet.”

“And you taste like maple syrup, now finish your breakfast or else you aren’t getting anymore till tonight.”

“Damn, I love it when you talk dirty to me, babe.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Relishing the last bite, Jason marvelled at the way Tim’s hair loosely framed his pale face, the way his clear blue eyes slightly wavered as he drank his coffee, lost in thought. ’ _How could anyone possibly be this beautiful?_ ’

“Something wrong, Jay?” Tim’s looked at him, eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Is it the nightmare? You can tell me about it.”

He closed his eyes slowly, “Nah, babybird. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“You know Tim,” Jason exhaled deeply, “It’s just that… sometimes. Sometimes, I see ghosts.”

And with that, he opened his eyes again.

The kitchen was empty. The lights were off and the living room illuminated with the faint glow of red from the phone. Red like his bird.

There was an empty plate in front of him and the smell of waffles, the smell of Tim, was gone. Jason took a slow breath, then swept his arm across the counter in anger, shattering the plate against the kitchen cabinets.

He pulled another can of beer out from the opened six-pack on the floor. Finishing it seconds, he crushed it in his right hand. Normally, a beer would be like a light snack, but having buried himself in work, he had not slept and eaten in days. The alcohol hit him hard and he stumbled back towards the living room, ’ _Tim was right, I did have too much to drink_.’

“Hey babe, look! I can’t even walk straight!” A pained and desperate laugh dissipated into the dead air.

He threw himself back-first onto the couch, left hand dangling over the edge. A loud clatter of metal rolling on wooden floorboards caused him to turn his head. His ring had slipped off his finger. He had lost a lot of weight. Seeing the ring, memories rushed back into his head.

 

* * *

 

Damian had dragged him violently off Bruce, whom he had pinned to the tree moments before. Dick quickly pulled Jason into a hug, gripping Jason’s hair in his left hand and Jason’s left hand in his right, “He said he was sorry. He- He said we all meant so much to him.” Firmly pressed into Jason’s hand was a chain. Silver and partly melted, a tarnished ring was looped into the chain. The ring. Tim’s ring. The one he said he wore next to his heart. The ring that matched the one hidden beneath Jason’s left glove.

A violent mixture of feelings overcame him. Desperately, he turned towards Bruce, “Bruce- The Lazarus pit. Please. I came back, Damian came back, hell, even you came back. We can’t not try. I- I can’t not try.”

Defeat momentarily flashed across Bruce’s face, an expression Jason had never seen, “There was no body. The drones, they completely destroyed him. Only his staff, a section of his cape, and the ring remained.”

 

* * *

 

Lying on the couch, Jason brought his hand to his chest, gently touching the ring that hung across the melted chain on his neck. He tossed the crushed beer can in his right hand aimlessly to the ground and turned to bury his face in the couch pillows, trying to gather as much of what remained of Tim’s scent as he could. Trying to forget. Trying to remember.

 

* * *

 

“Look how loved you are,” Mr. Oz’s voice smirked through the intercom. Tim stared into the monitor. The man had transported him out of the line of fire during the last attack of the second fleet into a confining cell. Now, he was showing him his own funeral. ’ _How twisted_.’

Tim had already broken out of confinement once. The cell was created with some sort of magic. Each time he escaped, he would step out into another cell, identical to the one he was in before. It was an uncalculated setback, but he knew this wouldn’t stop him.

He watched as Alfred, Dick, and even Damian, spoke kind remarks about him. He watched as Bruce gently touched his gravestone. He watched as Jason tore his way through the trees towards them. Jason. His handsome face contorted with pain and rage as he slammed Bruce against the trees and threw Dick to the ground. The way his emotions transformed into desperation and loss as Dick pressed the ring into his hand and Bruce told him that there was no body to revive. 

In his mind, he had reached out towards the monitor, cupping Jason’s cheeks with both hands, and told him, ’ _I’m right here. I’m right here, Jay. I’m fine. It’s going to be alright_.’

Tim turned towards the direction of his captor’s voice, staring straight through the intercom speaker to Mr. Oz’s hooded figure, “You’ll regret this,” Tim spat, “you can’t keep me here forever. My friends will come for me. They will come.”

A dark chuckle left the intercom as the monitor turned off, leaving Tim standing alone, in the darkness.

 

* * *

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Side Note: I have a nasty habit of writing in threes; I need to work on improving that.  
> I've waited a whole year for Tim to come back I'm so excited.  
> Wow, the more I read it through, the more I notice minor grammar errors (which I keep fixing intermittently). So sorry in advance (^_^);;  
> >:)


End file.
